


Dreams and Nightmares: Bonus

by Arcane_Light



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 15:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3124655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcane_Light/pseuds/Arcane_Light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to gracious demand from my readers, and since I'm not writing a sequel until more films are released, I've decided to write a series of short prequel stories based on the characters of Dreams and Nightmares: Parts One and Two. These stories will be able to stand on their own, for the most part, and we will get a chance to more deeply explore the interactions and developing relationship between both Sigyn and Loki, as well as the other Thor Universe characters. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 and 6 year-old Sigyn and Loki

Sunlight streamed through open windows as the Lady Freya approached, golden hair in luscious waves that tumbled over the blush fabric of her gown. She bowed upon seeing the queen and Frigga offered a polite smile and wave as a small child suddenly came tearing around the goddess’s skirts.

“Loki!” the little girl shouted, waving her hand far above her wild auburn locks, a wide smile on her face as she struggled to run with her skirts gathered in her arms. 

“Sigyn!” Loki smiled beside her, his hand still wrapped loosely around Frigga’s skirt as he waved back. He eagerly looked up to his mother and she smiled, nodding her head. The boy took off down the long hallway, Frigga following behind at a leisurely pace. 

“My queen,” Freya dropped into a low bow, shooting a displeased glare at her daughter as the girl collided with Loki, the two children letting out shrieks of joyful laughter as they circled around each other. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that child,” Freya sighed as the children laughed and smiled near the curtained window.

“Sigyn?” Frigga asked, looking to the goddess’s youngest daughter. “She’s a lovely girl.”

“She could be,” Freya huffed, throwing a golden lock over her shoulder, “but she’s just so unmanageable.”

“I’ve always thought Sigyn such a polite young girl,” Frigga commented, “and so respectful.”

“Yes, yes,” Freya waved her hands, “but she’s just so rebellious. I let her out of my sight for a moment and the next thing I know she’s digging through the dirt for tulip bulbs or vanished into the library without a word.”

Frigga smirked, “Those are hardly worrisome traits, Lady Freya.”

“I’ve sent six dresses to the seamstress in the last month,” Freya exclaimed, “all covered in ink and mud.”

“Oh, Thor and Loki go through that number in a week!” Frigga shot a happy glance at her youngest son as he proudly displayed a new book for the little Sigyn.

“Yes, but they are boys!” Freya said. “They are supposed to do those sort of things. It’s unseemly for a girl.” Frigga’s brows furrowed.

“There’s not a thing among Sigyn I would categorize as unseemly,” she said, admiring the young girl’s beautiful smile and bright eyes. “She’s a lovely girl and it’s refreshing to see such spirit in one so young.”

“I just don’t understand,” Freya seemed not to hear the queen’s comments. “None of her sisters are this way.” She sighed, “At this rate, I’ll never be able to marry her off.”

“I don’t see that as a concern,” Frigga snuck a glance at her youngest son, watching how he glowed at the little lady’s admiration of his book. “When the time comes, any young lord would be blessed to have her as his wife.” 

“Let me know when you find one of these young lords,” Freya scowled at her daughter who seemed to have noticed her mother’s disapproving glare. 

~*~

“Sigyn, are you alright?” Loki called out, her messy curls glowing copper in the bright light of the garden. She stopped for a moment and Loki thought he saw her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Briskly, she whipped around to face him, a wide smile on her face. 

“Course!” she proclaimed. “Why would you say that?” He noticed the puffy skin under her eyes and how there seemed to be a bit of red around them.

“Well,” Loki rushed to meet her, “you’re all sniffly. Are you ill?” Sigyn’s face pinched.

“I’m not ill!” she said, poking a finger at him with a grin, “You’re just ill in the head.” Suddenly, she tore off into the garden, curls bouncing as she laughed and Loki chased after her.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” he yelled. “You got a head start!”

“If you ever want to beat me,” Sigyn shouted over her shoulder, “you have to stop complaining and run faster!” Loki smirked and held out his hand, throwing a small spark of magic at her racing feet. The girl tumbled to her knees and shot him a wild glare as he leapt pass her. “Not fair!” Sigyn hollered, “You used magic!” 

“Maybe you should learn some magic, then,” he turned around to stare triumphantly at her, “so you can stop complaining!” Sigyn looked up at him, her expression shifting from pout to smile. 

“Maybe I will,” she smirked, leaping to her feet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8 and 9 year-old Sigyn and Loki

“Come on, Thor!” Loki pleaded, feeling guilty for the sad look on Sigyn’s face as she stood at the edge of the meadow. “Sigyn can play war with us.”

“No she can’t!” his older brother scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why not?” Sigyn pouted, brows furrowed with hurt. 

“Well…” Thor thought and Loki could see his brother searching for a viable excuse. Suddenly his blue sparkled with glee. “Because she’s a girl!” the golden haired prince declared. “And girls can’t be warriors. I’ll only let her play if she agrees to be the damsel in distress.” Thor gave a definitive nod, a satisfied smile on his face as Loki shot a glance at the girl to his side. His eyes swelled at the expression on her freckled face. Brows pinched with anger and lips pursed with determination, Sigyn stomped toward the elder prince and stood defiantly before him. Thor peeked out at her, chin still held high with confidence as he prepared to hear her surrender. Suddenly, Thor’s face lit with pain as Sigyn drove her foot into the prince’s shin, sending him hopping about like a rabbit until she slapped the back of his head and the prince tumbled to the grass, grasping at his leg and neck.

Loki stared as Sigyn strode past, head held high as she made her way down the hill. Looking back at his defeated brother, Loki smiled and Thor quickly scrambled to his feet, chasing after the young girl. 

“I – I changed my mind!” Thor shouted down the hill, waving his arms. “Sigyn, will you be in my army?” Loki went sliding down the hill after them. 

“No way!” he hollered. “She’s in my army!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11 and 12 year-old Sigyn and Loki

She groaned and reached, stretching as far as she could until she was teetering on her tiptoes, fingers just bushing the bottom of a leather bound book. It was within her grasp and Sigyn need only reach just a bit further, but as her fingers nearly clinched her prize she could feel gravity pull against her and she went careening back, arms flailing. She was inches from colliding with the edge of a massive table when frantic arms wrapped about her, snatching her from her tumble. As she pushed the mess of hair from her face with a huff, Sigyn heard the strained chuckling.

“Need a hand?” Loki grinned at her, black hair tousled from her rescue. Sigyn brushed him off, straightening the folds of her skirt. 

“I nearly had it,” she frowned at him as he reached up and plucked the book from the shelf with ease. She remembered when just last summer she had still towered over the younger prince. Now, he was at least a hand above her. 

“There’s no shame in asking for help,” Loki smirked, handing her the book. She snatched it from him with a pout, retreating to her desk where her papers were laid out in a rounded arch. She could feel his eyes on her, peering over her shoulder at her notes and diagrams. “What are you doing?” he looked curiously at the desk. 

“Obviously, it’s a spell,” she retorted, rolling up the sleeves of her dress. 

“You? Cast magic?” Loki scoffed with disbelief. 

“Is it so unbelievable?” Sigyn scowled, studying the formula on the page. Loki leaned against her table, laying his hand over a pile of her papers, and Sigyn scowled at him.

“Well, yes!” he said with a flourish of his hand. “You’ve not shown a single hint of aptitude in the fields of magic, not that it isn’t uncommon at this age.” She could see the pleased expression on his face even from behind her curtain of curls. “Why would you think that you could just cast it? And with no practice.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Sigyn spat, a kinky tendril falling embarrassingly over her nose. Loki snickered. 

“I think you’re going to burn your hands,” he smiled, but Sigyn ignored him. She turned to her diagram, holding out her hands and closing her eyes. “What are you doing now?” Loki huffed.

“Trying to focus,” she hissed at him. She felt a spark of life near her fingertips, the joyous sensation of success, and her eyes flew open to see his reaction. Loki’s face was wide with fright and Sigyn suddenly noticed the growing heat on her skin. Shaking her hands frantically, Sigyn tried to will away the tiny flames, but each gust of air only seemed to encourage them. Her hands began to tingle as she furiously shook them. In an instant, Loki was upon her, throwing his hands over hers, and the burning sting vanished as cooling comfort set in. He blew and patted at her hands, dousing the remainder of the tiny flames as Sigyn looked on in shame. 

“I told you,” he frowned at her and Sigyn turned away. How could she have been so stupid? Now she looked like a fool. 

“I don’t understand,” she muttered as Loki finally released her hands for inspection. “I did everything right. Why didn’t it work?” Loki looked down at her diagram, running his fingers along her smooth quill strokes. 

“It should have worked,” he said, stealing a glance at her. “I guess we’ll just have to practice more.” 

“We?” Sigyn could feel the heat rise in her face and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. 

“Clearly you need more instruction,” he turned away, chin held high, but she thought she saw a hint of heat on his face, too. “I’m only offering to teach you what my mother is teaching me.” Sigyn stared at her toes, hiding her face behind a shield of curls. 

“I’d like that,” she mumbled, peeking out. Loki still had not faced her, but she could see the smile on his face as he marched away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13 and 14 year-old Sigyn and Loki

“It’s ridiculous!” Loki scoffed, throwing his hands in the air as Sigyn flipped the page, images of frost giants dancing across the parchment.

“Why is it so unbelievable?” she posed. “They are living beings just as the rest of us. Who’s to say they can’t be civil?”

“History!” Loki shouted, turning back to the table. “Years of it! The frost giants are beasts, animals, monsters. They are beyond civilized interaction.”

“How can you say that?” Sigyn insisted. “In thousands of years, not once has the Asgardian house attempted to rekindle the relationship with Jotunheim.”

“Why would we?” Loki countered. “They’ve killed thousands of our soldiers.”

“And we’ve killed millions of them,” Sigyn pointed out, the young prince’s brow furrowing. “All I’m saying is that we could at least try. There’s no harm in trying to be civil.” 

“I suppose,” the young prince receded, giving her a small smile. Sigyn marked it down as a victory, one of a growing number in recent years.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15 and 16 year-old Sigyn and Loki

“Now remember,” Loki carefully and obsessively placed her hands on the diagram, aligning her fingers with the defined markings, and Sigyn smirked, “you need to focus all your energy on the eight points of reception. Use them as lightning rods and -”

“Direct the magic through them,” Sigyn interjected, resulting in a playful scowl from the young prince. “Don’t worry, Loki. If I set myself on fire you’ll be here to douse me.” Loki smirked.

“True,” he stepped back, “but…”

“But I won’t always be able to rely on you to put out my fires,” Sigyn offered, waiting for his pleased laughter. Instead, he only smiled at her, blue eyes flashing like gems.

“I didn’t say that,” he clasped his hands behind him and Sigyn blushed. She ignored the flutter in her chest as she directed her attention to the diagram before her, not seeing the color that rose on his own pale face. Her skills had greatly improved in the last years, especially with both Loki and the Queen Mother’s guidance. She had not burnt herself in years. Now, she could feel as the magic formed, its distinct golden glow and the sensation of light dancing on her skin. She still closed her eyes, a habit of concentration that had transformed into a kind of ritual, as the magic rushed down her arms. 

“Sigyn,” she heard Loki whisper and peeked out to see. A delicate orange blossom had formed on the page, tiny green arms reaching out in slow furls as a dusting of gold magic settled on the parchment. Loki’s eyes glistened at the sight of the small flower, leaning down to admire it closely. “Sigyn, that’s incredible.” She smiled, a blush rising to her face.

“I’m sure you could do it with ease,” Sigyn said, watching as he examined the flower. 

“Actually,” he leaned up, “I’ve never been good at materialization. It’s too difficult for me. That’s really quite amazing, Sigyn.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, removing her hands from the diagram. She reached out and plucked the tiny blossom from its birthplace and extended it to Loki. “For you.” He smiled and gently took it into his fingers.

“I shall treasure it always,” he smirked. 

“Always is a long time,” Sigyn replied, bringing another book down from the shelf, “and it is only a flower.”

“But a very special one,” the young prince said, placing the blossom atop a pile of books and Sigyn hid a smile behind her hair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16 and 17 year-old Sigyn and Loki

Loki tumbled to the ground, rolling clear of Volstagg’s crushing blow as the burly youth howled with delight.

“Can’t run forever, my friend!” he shouted and Loki scowled. He was quickly being surrounded by the young Warriors Three when, suddenly, he felt a warmth at his back.

“He has a point,” Sigyn’s voice found his ear, the ends of her curls tickling at his neck. 

“Siding with them now, are you?” Loki smirked, deflecting one of Hogun’s arrows with a flash of green magic. 

“That would be entirely counterproductive!” Sigyn called out, redirecting Sif’s advances, “as I am on your team!” Loki smiled at the thought as they countered, holding their own well against an outnumbering enemy force. 

“Then shall we begin?” he muttered over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Sigyn’s smiling face. 

“Gladly,” she grinned, shooting toward Sif. The girl seemed caught off guard as Sigyn flew to the ground and spun on her knees, taking out her legs and sending her toppling into the dirt. In an instant, Sigyn was charging at Fandral, throwing balls of golden light into his rapier.

“Little dove, little dove!” Fandral cried with a pearly smile, flourishing his blade, “You seem to have happened upon a lion!” Sigyn smirked and suddenly spread her fingers, the golden orbs expanding to impressive size and bashing against the young swordsman from all sides. Tossed about like a doll, the golden-haired boy turned to noodles and slunk to the ground. Sigyn snatched an arrow from the air, flinging it back at Hogun and pinning him to the tree by his sleeve. Distracted by Sigyn’s opponents, Loki did not see Thor looming near, hammer held high above his head.

“Too slow!” he shouted with glee, bringing it down upon his little brother. Loki rolled back, coming to rest on hand and knee in the grass as his brother and Volstagg lumbered closer, but Sigyn appeared behind him, leaping over his hunched form and charging the boys. They directed their attacks toward the girl, stumbling back as her form shimmered and vanished, leaving them completely exposed. Loki was already in place, as was the real Sigyn. With a single flick of his hand, Loki threw a long rope of green magic over the boys’ heads, aiming for Sigyn. She snatched it from the air and the two pulled it tight, sending Volstagg and Thor plummeting into the dirt. 

He could see her smile from across the field, a mess of curls escaping her loose braid as she grinned at him. To the side, Sif and Fandral crawled to their feet, Hogun still trying to tear free from his own arrow. The green rope vanished as Thor and Volstagg raised their heads, grumbling as they dusted off their clothes. 

“Two against four,” Loki smiled down at Thor, “and we still win.” 

“You only won because of Sigyn!” Fandral shouted, obviously embarrassed at having been beaten. 

“And so what if he did?” Sigyn cocked an eyebrow at the arrogant swordsman. “This is a team match. Perhaps you should play more to each other’s strengths than simply focusing on your own.” Loki flashed a quick smile at Sigyn, who returned it happily. An unflattering pout pinched Fandral’s face as he fixed his cloak, shoving his rapier back into its sheath with a huff and stomping over to join Thor.

“Well played, brother,” Thor gave Loki a solid smack on the shoulder. “An impressive win, indeed. And to you as well, Sigyn!”

“Thank you, Thor,” she responded. “Good to see that one among you isn’t a sore loser.” She and Sif laughed as Hogun tumbled from the tree and into Fandral, having finally freed himself of Sigyn’s arrow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 and 20 year-old Sigyn and Loki ... Part 1 of the festival

The streets of Asgard teemed with bubbling life, crowds of happy people swarming from all corners of the kingdom to the gleaming capitol in honor of the New Year. The festival of Jul was the greatest and most splendid of all, twelve nights of joyous celebration and rich feasting to hail the coming year. There would be dancing, singing, parties, and hunts; performances of musical, artistic, and physical skill. There was the archery competition, wrestling, swimming and the sword; horse races, handball, and taubåt. Sigyn had never seen so many people in her life, and all in such good spirits.

“Come on, Sigyn!” her sister Lofn raced ahead of their party toward the golden palace. Three other beautiful young girls scampered along with her. 

“Careful, Gersemi,” Freya called. “Don’t ruin your dress.” Sigyn was glad that she wasn’t bound up by such silky frocks, much more suited to the rough fabric of her dress, a gift from her grandfather who was far more attuned to his granddaughter’s preferences than her mother seemed to be. Sigyn raced after her sisters, flying past them on her long legs as they ascended the great golden staircase. 

“Wait for me!” Nanna cried out, her troublesome skirts tangling about her feet. Sigyn quickly turned around and helped her sister up the last flights. Upon entering the great hall, all ten daughters of Freya stood gaping, heads tilting up to absorb the towering heights. 

“Enough gawking!” Freya rounded them up, forming them into two tight rows. “Now remember, you must curtsey for both the Allfather and the queen, as well as their sons, but none deeper than for the king. Do not make eye contact with the Allfather until he addresses you and do not speak unless first spoken to. Understood?”

“Yes, mother,” Sigyn replied in unison with her sisters, only half paying attention as her mother rambled. The tapestry to her right was new, likely commissioned especially for the New Year festival: the great one-eyed king soaring through the sky and leading the Wilde Ride for the dead retinue, his warriors and soldiers mounted behind him with spear and shield. Beautiful work, wondrous and awe-inspiring in its detail and skill. It must have taken months to complete. 

“My great king!” Freya’s voice carried through the hall as she dipped low into a near-embarrassing bow, all ten daughters following suit. Odin approached with a smile, the Queen Mother on his arm and Gungnir held steadily in the other. 

“Lovely Freya,” the Allfather addressed her, but Sigyn did not raise her head. She knew her mother’s wrath would be fierce and neverending should she break composure. “This is hardly a necessary show,” Odin continued. “You are welcomed guests to our hall.” 

“For which we are eternally grateful, my king,” Freya finally rose to stand before him. “There is no greater honor than to share in the Jul with our own sovereign lord. My queen,” the golden-haired lady bowed to queen mother.

“Welcome, Lady Freya,” Frigga responded with a smile. “We are so pleased to have you, and your lovely daughters!” Sigyn nearly sighed with relief as she and her sisters finally raised their heads. A few moments more and she feared she would have been stuck for good. “They seem to grow more beautiful each year,” the queen’s smile warmed Sigyn’s heart as she went down the line. “Hnossa, Gersemi,” the two prized daughters bowed again, “Idunna, Lofn, Nanna,” the smallest of the daughters smiled with glee, “Sjofn, Snotra, Syn, Var.” Each of the daughters of Freya bowed graciously upon being named by the queen, until finally Frigga came to the last of their number, “And dear Sigyn.” Sigyn could not contain her joy, smiling up at the queen with such enthusiasm she could almost hear her mother’s discomfort. “Welcome back,” Frigga leaned forward as if to whisper this secret message only to her. 

“And your sons, how they grow!” Freya proclaimed with a flourish and Sigyn finally directed her attention to the two figures standing just behind the king. She stumbled back at Thor’s growth; the eldest son had sprouted into a full grown oak since she’d last seen him, his arms thick around as her torso and his head towering a full length above her. Glancing to her side, she could see each of her sisters melting with infatuation, none more so than Gersemi and Hnossa, who made their fawning overtly obvious, but Sigyn was truly hypnotized by only one of the royal sons. 

He, too, had grown in their season apart, dark hair tickling at the bottom of his ears and blue eyes flashing with distaste at the sight of his brother’s admirers. Though he seemed to have filled out his body more clearly, Sigyn could still spot the awkwardly gangly limbs hiding behind dark fabric. As if sensing inspecting, Loki’s eyes fluttered to meet hers and she suddenly felt the heat rush to her face, unable to hide her small smile. 

“Please,” the Queen Mother motioned for a handmaiden, “Allow Dagny to escort you to your chambers. We were about to spend the afternoon in the markets. Something of a family outing, if you’d care to join us.”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude!” Freya declared, though Sigyn could see the eagerness in her mother’s eyes.

“I insist,” Frigga offered with a smile, instructing Dagny to begin the transport of the golden goddess’s many trunks. Sigyn felt sorry for the poor girl as she stared in dumbfounded exhaustion at the mountain of work before her, but, as they went back out the palace steps toward the music of the market, Sigyn saw the queen instruct three guards to help the girl. 

~*~

Hundreds of vendors lined the streets of Asgard’s sprawling market, hailing from every corner of the nine realms. There were dwarf craftsmen from Nidavellir with towering wooden carvings, stone statues of the gods and goddess, and glimmering weapons. There were the elves of Alfheim with their breathtaking jewels and gowns, bolts of fabric that rippled like water, and necklaces like starlight. Merchants from Vanaheim brought with the familiar scent of the sea, displaying proudly tiny carvings of boats and sea serpents that moved and wriggled in the hand. Sigyn wandered, though her mother did not seem to notice; she was too preoccupied with buttering the queen. For this, Sigyn was grateful. It allowed her a precious sense of freedom. 

Like a bee to the soft bed of a flower blossom, Sigyn found her way to an eden of beauty. Glorious flowers poured out of tall urns, overflowing from hanging baskets, and draping over gazebos. It was like a dream as she wove her way through the flower market, each scent filling her nose and heart alike with joy. Immediately, she was drawn to a wave of white blossoms covering a stone wall. Moonflowers, though they did not bloom in the bright light of day, Sigyn knew their beauty, how they opened to only those diligent enough to venture into the night. 

“They’re my favorite,” a voice called out to her and Sigyn jumped with surprise. Loki smiled at her as he pushed aside a curtain of flowers. 

“Really?” Sigyn smiled in return, turning to the wall. “I’d have thought a prince would not worry himself with something as unimportant as horticulture. Aren’t you too busy learning negotiation tactics and battle strategies?”

“An interesting combination,” he smirked as he came to stand beside her, “though one generally does come shortly after the other.” Sigyn muffled her laughter, turning to admire the moonflowers.

“Your favorite, you said?” she reached out to rub a soft leaf between her fingers. “And why is that?”

“It takes patience to see their beauty,” Loki explained, shooting a quick glance back at her, “They do not reveal their secrets to just anyone who happens to pass by. They are far more selective in who they bestow their good graces upon. Not just any admirer will do.”

“Who would have thought a flower to be so clever,” Sigyn smirked, tucking a curly lock behind her ear as the prince offered his arm to her. 

“Someone who could see it,” he smiled, gladly leading her back to the center walkway. As they fell in with the crowds of people, Sigyn saw two guards come in behind them. They kept at a reasonable distance, but still maintained a spear’s reach of the prince and Sigyn suddenly grew nervous, acutely aware of the company she now kept. “Are you enjoying the festival?” Loki asked, giving a mindless nod to a group of bowing citizens. Sigyn smiled at the family, waving at the little girl who smiled brightly in return. 

“More than I thought,” Sigyn replied without thinking and quickly regretted her presumptuousness. 

“Do you not enjoy parties?” Loki seemed not to mind her free speech and, in fact, sprouted a pleased smile. 

“I find the after-parties in particular grow far too boisterous for my tastes,” Sigyn said as a group of men stumbled by, large steins grasped in their hands. “Although I do enjoy a good party, if the company is choice.” 

“I would be curious to know what would fall into such a category,” Loki responded with a smile, leading her around a corner. He had grown tall in the last season, now standing far above her despite her own tall frame. His boyish face, round and plump, had grown slim and sleek, jaw and chin with sharp lines. Even his neck seemed elegantly long and slender as he looked down at her, catching her gaze. There was a sparkle there, a hint of mischief as he kept glancing forward. Suspicious, Sigyn followed his gaze and let out a pleasured sigh. Fresh parchment, bundles of plumed quills, and rows upon rows of books. She slipped from his grasp and floated to the nearest vendor, a tall and fair man who smiled upon her arrival. Sigyn ran her fingertips over each soft cover, admiring the smooth leather and neat edges.

“Might I be of assistance, my lady?” the merchant asked, watching happily as Sigyn scoured over his wares. She smiled up at him. They were beautiful, the pages soft as butter and the bindings smooth and supple. Oh, the pages she could fill. “My prince!” the vendor suddenly bowed and Sigyn felt Loki come to stand beside her. “Please, select any one you like, as my gift to you.” She watched as Loki gave a small nod to the vendor, who rose to his feet with a glowing smile. Sigyn’s hand finally settled atop a small journal and she lifted it from the table, its lavender binding like velvet against her skin. It was small, demure in its beauty, and she loved it all the more. Suddenly, Loki’s hand alighted on her arm.

“Do you like it?” he murmured in her ear, a faint smile on his lips. She nodded, running her fingers along the pages. 

“Then it is yours,” the vendor offered with a bow, “as a humble gift to the royal house.” 

“I can’t possibly accept this without due payment,” Sigyn objected, sadly reaching to set the journal back on the table. Loki gently stopped her, placing the book back in her grasp as he handed the vendor a handful of coin, far more than the item was worth. The man’s eyes swelled and he offered another frantic bow.

“Thank you, my prince,” he exclaimed. 

“Thank you,” Sigyn whispered as she smiled at the merchant, her heart threatening to leap from her chest as she clutched the tiny tome in her arms. She had never seen such a look on the young prince’s face before, the way he tilted his head to gain a better view of her thrilled expression, how his lips pulled to the side in a crooked smile, even how his eyes seemed to glitter more eagerly in the sunlight, but she could hardly judge. She knew she wore the same expression as she joyfully held the tiny journal in one arm, the other laced through Loki’s.


	8. Song Accompaniment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm often inspired by music quite directly when it comes to writing. If you've read the original "Dreams and Nightmares" series, you'll have seen that I frequently include suggested songs for specific scenes. I'm rather fond of listening to these songs, so I thought I'd include a few more for you to enjoy. These are songs that remind me of Sigyn and Loki, their lives, their relationship, and their experiences. Enjoy.

I Believe by Christina Perri

Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars

Not About Angels by Birdy

Almost Home by Alex & Sierra

Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Ray

Safe With Me by Sam Smith

Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra

Lamentations of the Heart by Philip Wesley 

No Angel by Birdy

Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons

 

Enjoy the inspiration.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 and 20 year-old Sigyn and Loki ... Part 2 of the festival

At first her mother had been entirely suspicious of her daughter’s request for a new gown, especially for something as seemingly unimportant as the festival’s archery competition, but Freya took it as a sign of joyous promise for her youngest daughter and allowed Sigyn to send for the seamstress. Little did her mother know that Sigyn was creating something far simpler than what her mother likely expected, something with a far greater underlying meaning. She doubted anyone but he would understand it, but that was, after all, the only reason she’d requested the gown as she now sat among the ranks of Asgard’s elite, watching in earnest as the archery field was prepped. 

Great, woven targets were placed at designated lengths, first fifty then seventy then ninety yards until the furthest were placed nearly within the tree line, a full one hundred yards from the audience. Her sisters sat beside her, surrounding their mother who reveled in her seat at the Queen Mother’s feet, head held high and adorned with rosy ribbons as they waited for the competition to begin. Sigyn scanned the fieldsides, watching as each of the competitors readied their bows, stretching their arms above their heads. Trumpets sounded as the Allfather rose to his feet, motioning toward the far right side of the field. Every head in the stadium turned to look as the archers entered. 

Sigyn recognized many of the strapping young lads and lasses, some guards of the Red Falcons, some daughters of proud generals and war heroes, others such familiar faces as Hogun and Fandral, who scowled and waved at the squealing girls accordingly, and she clapped politely, but she smiled only as Loki entered the field, a dark bow in his left hand. The competitors were led to the Allfather’s seat where the great king would bestow his best wishes upon their aim, and Sigyn rose to her feet with the rest of the crowd. Loki came to stand just below her, a small railing between them as the Allfather spoke his blessings. She wasn’t really listening, she could honestly admit, and Loki seemed uninterested as well, his eyes wandering through the crowd with a satisfied look on his face. When his eyes fell on her, Sigyn nearly laughed as his expression flipped from smug satisfaction to dumbfounded amazement. She quickly waved to him, the moonflowers on her dress and in her hair glowing in the high noon light, a trick she’d labored hard to achieve. 

“May Ullr guide your arrows straight and true!” Odin exclaimed, the crowds rustling with excitement, “And may the best shot win!” The audience erupted with applause and shouts, cheering as the archers took their places along the field. First, the fifty yard shot. All but one of the fifteen competitors advanced to the seventy yard mark as the first set of targets were pulled away. Again, all but a few found their target. When the ninety yard mark was set, almost half of the archers were eliminated, arrows sticking in the grass short of their goal. Loki was slipping. His first shots had been excellent, but now they faded. The last had nearly missed the target, only just biting the bottom edge. Sigyn hands clenched in tight fists in her lap, knuckles white as the one hundred yard targets were set. 

“Come on,” she mumbled, watching as the first archer launched his shot. Too short. The boy needed more altitude. The next competitor, a young lass with fiery red hair, fired her arrow like a bolt of lightning, but it too fell short, half buried in the dirt in front of her target. Too much force. At this distance, the archers were allotted three arrows to hit the target and the closest cluster would decide the winner. She watched in suspense as the last three archers shot, one more girl and then Loki and Hogun. The girl triumphantly hit her mark, two arrows paired nicely on the outer ring of her target. The audience swelled with applause as she turned around to wave. Sigyn applauded politely, impressed by the dark-hair girl’s skill, but Loki was approaching his quiver and the crowds soon fell silent.

He nocked his arrow and drew his dark bow, pulling the string up to his cheek. Too low. He would make the same mistake as the first boy.

“Come on,” Sigyn muttered under her breath, leaning forward in her seat, “Raise your head, you fool. Use the wind.” Loki held the arrow close, the string pulled tight, and he suddenly leaned back, aiming his arrow farther up. “Yes,” she smiled, watching as he loosed the arrow. It soared through the air, landing squarely within the four-point ring. The crowd stirred with excitement, hushing once more as the young prince nocked his second arrow. Sigyn could see him trying to steady his breath, the slight rise and fall of his back as he tipped back, letting the arrow fly. It dug in next to its twin, well within the four-point ring. Now, the audience swelled with applause and cheers as the second prince lifted his last arrow. Sigyn held her breath, watching as it soared, and she leapt from her seat in joy as it completed a perfect triangle in the four-point ring. 

Both Gersemi and Hnossa stared at her with disapproval, a look mirrored by their mother only slightly as she congratulated the queen on a marvelous performance from her youngest son. Sigyn didn’t care. She smiled at Loki who waved as he returned to his post. Finally, Hogun would finish the tournament. The dark-haired boy preferred a long bow to his competitors’ short bows, something that Sigyn suspected could both help or hinder him. It would all depend on the environment and the level of his skill. Hogun was smooth in his form, each movement flowing gently to the next as if each shot was a single movement all its own. The first arrow landed in the four-point ring, a near mirror image of Loki’s first shot. The second landed even closer in, almost touching the five-point ring. She watched in anticipation as Hogun nocked his final arrow. It soared through the sky, its path strong and true, and came to land squarely inside the five-point ring. 

The crowd erupted with applause, rising to their feet to cheer and holler for the young archer. Escorts brought him, Loki, and the dark-haired girl before the Allfather’s seat as the audience cheered and clapped. First, the girl was presented and given a branch from the ancient tree. Then Loki was brought forth. He bowed to his father and mother, taking a knee as he was presented a shard of the Bifrost. Finally, Hogun was brought forward and the crowds erupted with applause. Before the escort could present Hogun with his prize, Loki stepped forward. He whispered something to the man who then nodded and smiled, passing Hogun’s trophy to Loki. Loki moved to stand before Hogun and presented him with finely crafted bow, forged by the ancient Ullr himself. Hogun bowed his head and took the bow from Loki. With a great flourish, Loki turned to the crowds.

“Your champion!” he shouted, raising the dark-haired boy’s arm aloft. Everyone clapped and cheered and soon Loki stepped aside, allowing the normally solemn young boy to stand apart and receive his praise.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 and 20 year-old Sigyn and Loki ... Part 3 of the festival

“Must we go, mother?” Loki pulled at the sleeves of his tunic, grimacing at how the bright red fabric of his brother’s shirt seemed to radiate even from behind. “The Lady Freya hardly ever gives us a second glance.”

“Now, Loki,” his mother glared at him, “Don’t be so critical. It’s not becoming on such a lovely young man.”

“Yes, brother,” Thor sneered, “So _lovely_.” Loki punched his brother in the arm, but Thor only scampered away laughing, which left Loki in a fouler mood as he pulled at the collar of his shirt. 

“Your father wants you and your brother to be there,” his mother continued, coming to place her hands on his shoulders as he looked in the mirror. “It’s important that you begin strengthening your relationships with the Vanir nobility.”

“Freya doesn’t care about me,” Loki scowled, wishing that his skin was not so pale and his hair not so dark. 

“Perhaps it is not Freya that you should be concerned with,” his mother smirked as she turned away. “She’ll be accompanied by her daughters, all future rules of Vanaheim.” Loki felt his throat tighten and his collar only became more constricting. 

“Sigyn is coming?” he asked, then quickly covered his intentions, “And Idunna and Nanna?” 

“Mmm hmm,” his mother nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “As well as the other seven, so let’s not be late.”

“Come now, brother,” Thor smiled as they headed out the door. “Let’s not keep the ladies waiting!” 

~*~

The royal family’s private gardens had been trimmed with an endless myriad of flowers and lights, all set afloat by his mother’s beautiful magic as the night sky sparkled overhead. Tree bows bent under the weight of the combined decadence, but still there was a level of taste. Again, his mother’s touch. Loki had always loved the gardens of Asgard’s royal palace, the mazes of trees and hedges, the hidden brooks and ponds, the tucked corners where one could steal away from the madness of the palace halls. It was about time the gardens got their deserved attention. 

Thor immediately zoomed to the table laden with pastries and delicious temptations. Loki, himself, would have fancied a lemon tart, but his stomach was far too tumultuous. Instead, he took a glass of wine from his mother’s gentle hand, nearly downing the contents. As if sensing his anticipation, an escort arrived in the gardens, coming down a softly lit path.

“The Lady Freya and her daughters,” the young man announced, bowing his head as the golden goddess appeared draped in golden fabric. 

“My great king,” she dropped into a low bow, her many daughters filing in behind her. Gersemi, Hnossa, Idunna, Nanna, Syn. One by one the lovely young ladies entered, each dressed in fine gowns and each instantaneously fawning over his brother. Finally, at the end of their line, came Sigyn. While her sisters had either opted or been encouraged to wear bright and warm colors, Sigyn had selected a gown of dark blue, like that of the night sky or the ocean’s depths, and she wore small blue flowers in the braids that adorned her head. Loki carefully set aside his glass as the Allfather greeted their guests.

“Dear lady,” his father offered a small nod and the goddess rose to her feet.

“We are so grateful for your hospitality,” Freya cooed. “My daughters have talked of nothing else all day.”

“And you look lovely, my dear girls,” Frigga smiled, motioning for the daughters to enter the gardens. There was a considerable amount of pleasantries and small talk, several of Freya’s daughters hovering around Thor as he regaled them with tales of his training excursions in Muspelheim. Loki kept to the outer edge of the patio, safely hidden beneath the swooping arms of the trees, but he was not hidden from all. The leaves near his head rustled as Sigyn came to stand beside him. 

“May I hide with you?” she asked with a smile, pushing aside a flowered branch. 

Loki grinned, “Of course. I’m not so selfish as to keep the best hiding places to myself.”

“Good,” Sigyn replied, a sparkle in her eye, “Otherwise I would have had to overthrow you.” They laughed beneath the comforting shield of the garden trees, watching as their families mingled. Loki snuck a glance at her, admiring how the light from the trees glistened off her skin. Each tiny blue flower was imperfectly woven into her braids, trailing down in a cascade of petals. She caught him staring and Loki’s face immediately flushed.

“What?” she asked, brows furrowed.

He turned away, hiding a small grin, “No moonflowers tonight?” Even without facing her, he could see her smile. 

“Not quite,” she said, tipping her head around. Tucked into the bundle of braids on the back of her head was a small white blossom, its petals opening to the moonlight above. They kept to the edge of the patio for most of the evening, Loki motioning for servants to bring two chairs and a small tray table so he and Sigyn could converse in peace. She told him about her studies in magic and healing, how she’d helped cure an illness plaguing several villages in Vanaheim, and how several of her sisters now were beginning to court. 

“But not you?” Loki asked, biting down on a lemon tart to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“Hard as it may be to see,” she replied taking an orange slice from the bowl, “I am the youngest of my sisters. Tradition would dictated that the elder sisters gain suitors first, though my mother is welcoming to any young lad who seeks our favor.” 

“Have you had such suitors?” he asked, again hiding his anxiety behind a glass of wine. 

“Only a few have had any interest in me,” she explained and Loki’s heart sank, “but they quickly loose said interest upon spending a few minutes with me, apparently.” Loki stared at her, intrigued.

“What makes you say that?” he inquired. “I suspect any time with you would only further their determination.” At this she blushed and Loki could not help but smile.

“Unfortunately,” she said, tucking a curl behind her ear, “I think they find that I am not what they expected.”

“How so?” Loki asked.

“I am not like my sisters,” she said, a faint twinge of sadness in her voice. Perhaps even a touch of guilt. Despite his better judgment, Loki reached out and placed his hand over hers, to which she looked up at him, a mixture of shock and hopefulness in her eyes.

“I would count that as a positive,” he told her. For a moment they sat together, trees rustling overhead as the stars glimmered in the distance. He wanted to tell her how wonderful she was, how fantastic it was that she wasn’t like her sisters, that she was amazing and splendid in every way possible. 

“Sigyn!” Freya called out, a stern look on her face, and Sigyn quickly retracted her hand and hurried to her mother’s side. “Did you and your sisters not have a bit of entertainment for the Allfather and our queen?” Freya pursed her lips, hands clasped in her lap.

Sigyn nodded, “Of course, mother. It would be our pleasure.”

“Loki,” his mother motioned him over and he sat next to her as the daughters of Freya took their places. There was a harp and several different sized mandolins as well as a collection of percussion instruments. Each of the daughters took up one of these instruments, all but Sigyn. She simply stood off to the side as her sisters began. It was a lively tune, light and quick, like sunlight sparkling on a water’s surface. Then, Sjofn began to sing. Loki had to admit, she had a lovely voice, soft and yet pure of tone. Unsurprisingly, the song was about a pair of lovers and Loki quickly decided that he had little interest in such a display, but then Sigyn stepped forward and he felt as the air shifted.

A pool of gold magic appeared before them, swoops and arches reaching all around to create the scene. A tiny golden women and a tiny golden man stood atop a golden hill. Sigyn twisted her hands and arms, bending the golden light to move the figures like puppets on strings. Every few moments she smiled and grinned, watching as her creations leapt and flew, telling the story of the constant maiden who awaited her fickle lover’s return. Her sisters sang and played with her, beautiful music filling the trees of the garden, but Loki could watch only her, how her hands bent and flowed, how her magic filled the space between them, golden light illuminating her freckled face. 

When they finished their song with a bow, his mother and father clapped and smiled, offering their praises to the ten daughters and their mother. Loki, too, offered his applause, smiling directly at Sigyn as she dismissed her magic. She smiled back at him as the queen motioned for her to join them. Sigyn came forward, bowing her head before the queen.

“You have such lovely magic,” his mother smiled, holding her hand out to Sigyn.

“Thank you, my queen,” Sigyn beamed up at the queen, taking her hand as if it were made of diamonds. “I only wish my magic was as magnificent as yours.”

“With proper training,” his mother gave Sigyn’s hand a tiny squeeze, “it very well could be.” 

“Truly?” Sigyn’s voice was filled with excitement. Frigga nodded and leaned in closer.

“I’ll speak with your mother,” she whispered to the grinning girl and Loki’s heart leapt with delight. It was what Sigyn had always dreamed of and he could think of no finer master for such a talented student. Perhaps, if he asked with all the sincerity he could muster, his mother would allow him and Sigyn to study together one day. He watched as Sigyn returned to her sisters, a wide smile on her face as she touched the flowers in her hair, and he could think of no finer student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the song Sigyn and her sisters perform as "Can't Hide" by Sarah Jarosz. Enjoy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 and 20 year-old Sigyn and Loki ... Part 4 of the festival

On the sixth night of the Jul festival, there was a great banquet and the streets of Asgard’s capital would fill with dancing and music, musicians from all across the nine playing on their lutes and drums and horns until the sun peaked over the glowing horizon. Despite her minimal distaste for such boisterous crowds, Sigyn loved this night of the festival most. She loved the music, the dancing, the lighthearted comradery. Lights hung from the trees, glittering banners stretched across the streets, lords and ladies were smiling and happy, even her sisters seemed more sisterly than normal. Gersemi had even offered to help Sigyn with her hair. Her eldest sister could be quite loving when the mood struck her and she had woven Sigyn’s hair with golden flowers, having Sigyn set them alight with sparkling magic, a token which she then bestowed on all her sisters that night. 

They wove their way through the throngs of people, smiling and laughing as they stumbled hand in hand, making their way to the center of the festival where the Allfather and Queen Mother would start the evening’s festivities. They’d been granted a prime spot for the event, just to the side of the great stage where the king and queen would stand, on a secondary platform. As they approached through thickening crowds, Sigyn caught a glimpse of the glorious set. Towering poles strung with lights and flowers and banners crisscrossed over the stage and the growing crowds. Underneath was the Allfather’s throne where he and the queen now sat, waiting patiently for the crowds to collect. Sigyn and her sisters took their place with their mother, standing proudly to the right side of the queen. 

Sigyn could see the princes standing by their father’s side, dressed in their finest tunics and chestplates, as the king rose to his feet and addressed the crowd.

“On this, the sixth night of Jul,” his voice echoed through the courtyard, “may Yngvi Freyr grant us all light and warmth, happiness and joy, and a year filled with health and prosperity!” The crowds clapped and cheered, Sigyn smiling as the king hushed the throngs. “On this, the eve of his birth, my youngest son, Loki, is granted the honor of opening the night’s celebration. My son,” the Allfather motioned for Loki to step forward and Sigyn could see the mixture of excitement and anxiety on his face. Next, the Queen Mother stepped forward to join her husband. Suddenly, as Loki was about to step forward, the queen glanced at Sigyn, catching her gaze and motioning for her to come forward. Sigyn’s heart pounded in her chest and her face burned with heat. What was she doing? Again, the queen motioned for Sigyn to come forward and, after an insistent glare from her mother, Sigyn carefully climbed the stairs up the stage. 

Raised far above the rest of the crowd, Sigyn could see every face staring at her, perhaps wondering why the youngest daughter of Freya was being summoned to the stage. Sigyn only stared ahead, never breaking from the queen’s gaze. Finally, she came to stand before the king and queen, Loki placed beside her with a strange look on his face. 

“Go on, my dear,” Frigga whispered to her, motioning at Loki. “Join him.” Sigyn was beyond confused and sufficiently mortified, swallowing her fear as she moved to stand next to Loki. She could feel herself shaking, but soon felt a shift in the air as Loki raised his hands. Whatever fear she felt suddenly vanished as she saw green sparks jump from his fingertips. Smiling back at him, she raised her hands. The air swelled with the combined energy, the trees bending and swaying in the wind of the magic. Ladies clutched to their scarves, children cooed in fascination and pointed as Loki and Sigyn threw their hands to the sky, gold and green light tearing through the air in swirling spirals, erupting overhead and raining down in streaks of light. 

The crowds hollered and clapped, smiling and pointing as the fireworks multiplied and filled the night sky. Green and gold everywhere as Sigyn looked up to admire their work. She couldn’t help but laugh with joy, watching as her golden sparkles rained down like glimmering snow. Loki’s flashes of magic stretched and dashed through the air like shimmers off metal, and it all mixed together in a brilliant show of light and magic. She glanced down at him, only further enraptured as she saw the expression on his face as he looked up at the sky, the green of his magic glinting in his eyes. With a great smile from the king, the festival began.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 and 20 year-old Sigyn and Loki ... Part 5 of the festival

The skies above flooded with light and music. Tantalizing aromas wafted on the breeze and laughter filled the trees. Even Loki could not help but smile, his normally cold and aloof demeanor melting away with each new song and each of Thor’s ridiculous new dances. His brother had downed near two casks of ale on his own accord, but had only begun to revel in the festivities. One moment he would be stomping about the courtyard surrounded by laughing, dancing faces and the next he would be perched atop a table, downing pints in a single swig. Loki chuckled as his brother nearly toppled to the cobblestone, watching as Volstagg and Fandral reset him atop his wooden throne. Sif only rolled her eyes and shook her hands clean of the ale he’d haphazardly spilled across her lap. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Sigyn appeared at his side with a smirk, following his gaze to the scene across.

“Dinner and a show,” he smiled in return, lifting his own stein in salute. Sigyn only laughed and hoisted her own, exchanging cheers as they both downed their drinks. “Impressive,” Loki snuck a glance down her drink to see it sufficiently drained, while his still sloshed at the bottom. 

“Again, I say,” Sigyn smirked at him, “You princes, always so sure of yourselves.” 

“Hardly the case anymore,” he assured her. “Such time around you seems to have rationalized my self-confidence.”

“I really make you feel that awful about yourself?” she distorted her face in mock concern. “Perhaps I need concern myself with my own arrogance.”

“It’s hardly arrogance when you best me at every turn,” Loki replied, motioning at her empty stein. Glancing down at it she laughed and placed it atop a passing tray, snatching a fresh one. 

“Well then,” she held out her drink, “Who am I to correct a prince?” 

“Quite so,” Loki met her drink and they downed. When they’d finished they watched as Thor and the Warriors Three attempted a match of their own, setting forth a line of steins. A crowd had gathered to witness the show and Loki tapped Sigyn on the shoulder, directing her gaze.

“Three pieces on Hogun and Sif,” she pointed as the two dark-haired warriors lined up across from Volstagg and Fandral. Loki furrowed his brow.

“Foolish choice,” he shook his head. 

“Is a prince of Asgard turning down a challenge?” Sigyn sneered at him, holding out her hand. Looking back to the table at Volstagg’s massive girth and Fandral’s already eager hands, Loki reached out and shook it. 

“You’re on,” he smiled and sat back to watch his inevitable victory. Surprisingly, Hogun finished only a few seconds behind Volstagg, the silent archer none worse for wear. When it came to Fandral and Sif, the smiling man had a fair time advantage. Loki nearly choked as Sif consumed her stein in a single gulp, leaving a flabbergasted Fandral slack jawed across the table with a half emptied pint as the crowd erupted with cheers. Loki stood gaping as Sif celebrated for the crowd, a satisfied smirk on her face as Fandral and Volstagg collapsed to their seats. An elegant hand appeared before Loki’s nose and he glanced over to see Sigyn staring straight ahead, smiling. 

“To the winner,” Loki surrendered three coins from his pouch with a sigh and Sigyn happily tucked them into her waistband. 

“Brother!” Thor hollered from his perch, waving his brother over to the table full of flush-faced party goers. “I need a comrade in this next challenge. Volstagg and Fandral threaten to toss me from my throne. No prince shall be out drunk!” Immediately, Loki felt his skin crawl and all eyes at the table turned to him, waiting expectantly across the cobblestone. A firm elbow met his ribs and Loki wobbled in his place, glaring at Sigyn as she leaned forward to take a drink.

“Prince of Asgard…” she mumbled into her stein, flashing him a devilish smile. Her challenge invigorated him. Loki straightened his tunic, reset his armor, and strode toward the table, a cocky swagger to his step as he took his place at his brother’s side. 

“Come now, Sigyn!” Thor shouted across the courtyard, his voice echoing in Loki’s ear. “No wallflowers this night!” Loki snickered as Sigyn scowled at Thor from across the way and begrudgingly surrendered her empty stein to join them. Standing at his side, Sigyn reached into her waist and slammed a handful of coin onto the tabletop for all to see. 

“Fifteen pieces on the Princes Odinson,” she declared, wide eyes all around staring at the pile of gold. “Who’s sure enough to match it?” Loki did not even attempt to hide his smile, watching as the onlookers emptied their pockets to match the maiden’s bet. He was pleased to see that a few placed their confidence with him, though he reasoned it was likely due to his brother’s legendary reputation. Regardless, Sigyn would leave with a handsome prize and a rather full purse. 

With whistles well wetted and inhibitions sufficiently loosed, drinking gave way to dancing and Loki soon found himself pushed to the edge of a boisterous dancefloor, watching as his brother stomped and hollered, a happily drunk smile on his golden face. The oldest prince had even convinced the normally reserved Sif to join him for a dance, the warrior looking quite lovely out of her usual blood-stained armor, though Loki himself had eyes for only one lady. Sigyn stood not far off, smiling and chatting with her gaggle of sisters as they watched the dancing long into the night. When Loki finally returned his gaze to the dancers his brother had vanished, perhaps disappearing with a lovely lady of his own.

“Ask her to dance, brother,” Thor’s voice found Loki’s ear and Loki stumbled back, the noise of the music having masked any hint of his brother’s arrival. He quickly hid any betrayals of his surprise or his unease at his brother’s accurate gleaning, instead feigning interest in the change of tune. “If you don’t ask her soon, I know of a dozen men who will,” Thor added, crossing his arms and giving his brother a solid shove, “Soon to be more if you don’t man up.”

Loki only straightened his disheveled tunic, “I can assure you I have no idea -”

“Come now, LokI!” Thor broke into his vision. “You’ve been pining after the girl all festival and she’s barely kept her eyes off you!”

“Truly?” Loki snuck a glance at Sigyn’s table, surprised to see her gaze suddenly shift away as if in avoidance. 

“You may be very smart, brother,” Thor rested a massive hand on his shoulder, “but you are so thickheaded.” The two brothers shared a laugh and Thor handed Loki a drink, which he graciously accepted to calm his suddenly rumbling stomach. “Now go!” Thor took the cup from his hands and gave him a playful shove, laughing as Loki glared back at him.

The music had shifted once more, signaling the end of another rousing tune. As the music swirled to a close Loki arrived at Sigyn’s table, the gathering of ladies and young lords quieting for a moment as the Second Prince extended a slender hand to Freya’s youngest daughter, which Sigyn took without hesitation. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to see the faces of Sigyn’s eldest sisters, Gersemi and Hnossa, as they watched their assumedly unremarkable sister be led to the floor by one of Odin’s sought after sons. 

The dancing was already well underway when Loki and Sigyn busted their way in, bouncing along with the rest of the merry citizens. Loki knew the song, an old folk tune from northern Asgard near the foothills of the great mountains that told the tale of a chance meeting between a young man and a charming lady. It was briskly upbeat and only quickened as the song progressed, forcing the dancers to spin faster and laugh louder as they bumped and tousled together. Sigyn didn’t seem to mind at all and only laughed as she and Loki were swept along, the musicians egging them on. Loki had not felt so free in a very long time. For a moment he was no longer Prince Loki or Odin’s second son or anything else. He was just another happy citizen of Asgard, dancing and smiling and enjoying the festival. No one sneered at him; in fact, they may have smiled at him as they all danced together, but perhaps they were only smiling at Sigyn. Her happiness was infectious. He could have sworn he saw golden snow floating down. The song ended with a final crescendo as all the dancers rushed to the center of the courtyard, lifting their hands with a great holler. Soon they were all clapping and applauding the musicians who bowed and tipped their heads, shouted that the fun was hardly over. 

“I’m not sure I can handle another like that!” Sigyn laughed, escaping to the edge of the dancefloor as Loki followed. Quickly, Loki snatched two glasses from a passing tray along with a pitcher of water. 

“Perhaps this might help?” he offered with a smile and Sigyn gladly accepted. The water was crisp and cold and helped to settle his spinning head and nervous stomach. “Do all ladies of Vanaheim dance with such life?” Loki asked, but his face suddenly turned hot as he realized his comment may have been interpreted as inappropriately worded, but Sigyn only smiled and laid a reassuring hand on his arm.

“It’s in our blood,” she laughed, taking another sip of water and motioning across to where Gersemi and Hnossa sat surrounded by admirers. “Though my sisters have learned to utilize it for more fruitful gains.” Loki laughed as the two blondes entertained their suitors, leaning and stretching so as to draw more fruitful attention. 

“And you, Lady Sigyn?” he made to refill her water glass, much to her satisfaction, “Do you share your sisters’ aptitude for social warfare?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “If you ask my mother, she’d say I’m socially inhabilitated. But I suppose her definition of a healthy social life is rather…broad.” Loki choked on his drink, spewing water across the cobblestone as he and Sigyn laughed. For a while, he simply admired her glow, how she brightened with every smile and witty quip. She was sharp and quick and had little concern for expectations. This he greatly appreciated. He only hoped she felt the same. With a strange jolt of confidence, Loki ventured further.

“And your stance on burly soldiers,” he nodded casually toward the group of youths, “What on them?” Suddenly, Sigyn’s expression turned sour. 

“Perhaps we should take respite elsewhere,” Sigyn leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. Loki followed her gaze to where a group of young soldiers were standing together near her sisters, their red cloaks glowing in the evening air. Youths of his father’s Red Falcons. There were several among them that Loki knew, having made their acquaintance earlier in his days, but one for sure was making Sigyn’s hands fidget. If he remembered correctly, the young man’s name was Theoric. 

Soon they were walking about the royal gardens, which had been opened to the public during the festival. It was a tradition Loki had never been without and he made his own tradition of watching his mother enchant the trees and flora with her seiðr. In recent years he had begun to help with his own enchantments and he was eager to share his work with Sigyn. The willow branches hung heavy with light on every bow and the junipers glowed with tiny blue orbs. Below their feet the stones in the path lit with each footstep and the grass rippled with waves of soft green light. His mother’s work was beautiful as ever and Sigyn could not see enough. She reached out to touch the bark, the branches, the leaves, and each time smiled as the lights raced by. Some would transform and take the shapes of tiny creatures, deer and rabbits and foxes, as they danced along. 

“The Queen Mother has outdone herself,” Sigyn took a step back to admire the gardens. 

“She always does,” Loki sighed, tipping his head back to watch a stream of purple shoot past. When he finally looked back down, he caught Sigyn smiling at him and she quickly looked away, a faint rosiness to her cheeks. He did not know what possessed him to do it, but Loki reached out and wrapped his fingers around her hand. Her breath caught and when she looked up Loki pulled her along. “I want to show you something!” he said, leading her to a nearby pond. She laughed as he fumbled along, a giddy smile on his face, no doubt, and firmly directed her to stand before the water. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers brushing her bare skin, and moved her a bit to the left. She laughed.

“Don’t move,” he instructed her with a smile and she gave a serious nod. Quickly, he examined the pond and then moved to stand beside her. “See that one there?” he pointed to a stone buried in the grass near the edge of the pond. It was smaller than the others that edged the water, but Sigyn nodded again. “Tap it with your foot,” he said and Sigyn gave him a curious look. 

“Tap it?” she replied. 

“Tap it,” Loki repeated. Carefully, Sigyn reached out her foot and Loki smiled. She wore no shoes. She gave him one last hesitant glance before he urged her on. Finally, she tapped the top of the stone with her foot. Immediately, a burst of light blossomed, setting off a chain reaction to all the stones around the pond. As it raced to the far end and all around it collided with the first and one by one the small lily pads floating on the surface began to glow a soft green, one following after the other as they illuminated a trail. At the very end the waterfall began to glow with white-blue light. His seiðr had worked perfectly. 

“That’s amazing, Loki!” Sigyn smiled, reaching down to touch the water’s surface. The resulting ripple expanded in glorious shades of red and orange. He smiled, heart racing in his chest as Sigyn ran her fingers along the glittering grass blades. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. Loki reached out his hand and offered it to Sigyn, who slowly rose to meet him. Even once she was fully upright, she didn’t release his hand.

“I’d like to show you something, too,” she smiled, her fingers soft around his own. At this close distance, Loki’s voice had failed him and he could only nod. Gently, she pulled him along, her flaxen curls woven with braids and ivy. He felt as though he were floating, his footsteps silent and soft, until she stopped them before a small tree. Its trunk was thick and the bark rough, and Sigyn pulled him closer. Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, she pointed to the center of the trunk.

“See that one there?” she asked with a smirk and Loki chuckled, nodding. Woven into the lines of the bark was a small spiral, blending with the texture. “Touch it,” Sigyn said. Loki raised a brow.

“Touch it?” he replied.

“Touch it,” she repeated, gesturing to the pattern. With one final smirk, Loki stepped forward. He did not remember this enchantment of his mother’s, but he raised his hand regardless and extended a finger to the trunk. As soon as the tip met with the rough bark, Loki felt the air surge with seiðr. Lines of light emerged from the spiral, crawling along the bark’s grain and reaching from roots to canopy, the entire tree sparkling and glowing with gold and silver magic, but it raced further, rushing through the canopy overhead and spreading to every tree until the entire garden was filled with gold, silver, blue, magenta, and green. Loki had never seen such seiðr before, never felt such a rush of energy and warmth. It was like a wave of crashing water surrounding him, enveloping him until he was completely submerged, floating peacefully within the current. 

“Is this…” Loki stared in awe at the trees, until finally he dropped his head to see her, “…is this you?” Sigyn smiled, flecks of gold in her hair. 

“The Queen Mother is an excellent teacher,” she blushed, absentmindedly tucking a braid behind her ear. 

“She is indeed,” Loki replied as he moved to join her, “but I know my mother’s seiðr. And this is you, Sigyn.” She was fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, a nervous habit he’d noticed. “You are an incredible seiðkonur, Sigyn, and I couldn’t be more proud to call you friend.” 

“I had quite hoped we were friends,” she replied with a smile, but there was something more in her grey eyes, a glimmer not unlike his own, and it set his mind racing with possibilities, but all that stopped the moment she placed a hand on his. Reaching up to meet him, Sigyn placed a single kiss on his cheek, warm and soft, before turning back toward the festival. Safe from her glorious gaze, Loki raised a hand to his face and gently touched his cheek, half expected it to vanish as an illusion, but the warmth remained, a spot of light and life that set his heart ablaze. 

“Are you coming, my prince?” Sigyn called out, her silhouette outlined by the light of the courtyard. A light ran through him, the likes of which he had not yet felt, and Loki raced to join her, the music and laughter of the courtyard growing louder.

“Wherever you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the song Sigyn and Loki dance to as "Star of the County Down" by Crikwater. Enjoy.


	13. Song Accompaniment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm often inspired by music quite directly when it comes to writing. If you've read the original "Dreams and Nightmares" series, you'll have seen that I frequently include suggested songs for specific scenes. I'm rather fond of listening to these songs, so I thought I'd include a few more for you to enjoy. Enjoy.

Dark Doo Wop by MSMR 

Heavy in Your Arms by Florence and the Machine

Unsteady by X Ambassadors

Waiting Game by BANKS 

Ready, Aim, Fire by Imagine Dragons

Wasted Love by Matt McAndrew

**Author's Note:**

> I praise the glorious minds of the Thor Universe creators for giving birth to such fantastic characters with which I am able to indulge my creative desires. I claim no ownership and give all credit to the glorious minds of Marvel: Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Larry Lieber.


End file.
